


a soft epilogue

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5879647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Separation anxiety. A few months after 302.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a soft epilogue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bgonemydear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgonemydear/gifts).



It takes an embarrassingly long time for Bellamy to notice what's happening.

It's mostly because once Clarke's back, it's just _natural_ for him to be with her all the time. He and Clarke are a team, and they've always spent a lot of time together. And, if he's honest, he still has trouble letting her out of his sight. If she thought it was protectiveness or paranoia that she was going to leave again, he's sure it would grate on her, but she seems just as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her. The first night she was back, he stayed up for hours, not knowing how to go to bed when Clarke was _here_ and _alive_ , when sleeping would mean not being with her, until she finally said, soft, shy, hair falling in her face, "You know, I don't have a room."

"Your mom didn't assign you one?" he asked.

She caught her lip in her teeth. "I asked if there were any close to you and she said no, and I--"

"Yeah, the nice stuff is all taken." He swallowed and said, "It would be really cramped to share."

"Do you know where I've been sleeping lately?" she asked, and when she had to press in close against him to fit, he didn't mind at all.

She still hasn't gotten her own room, and if he has his way, she never will. 

They aren't together during the day as much as he'd like, but he always knows where she is. She works in the clinic, taking shifts only when her mother isn't scheduled to be there, and he has guard shifts and meetings and mapping expeditions of his own. When one of them is working and the other isn't, they're still together; Clarke will sit with her back propped against the wall by his post, sketching or reading or napping, and he's got a seat of his own in what passes as her office in the clinic, where he reads reports and chats with her when there aren't any pressing crises.

As far as Bellamy's concerned, he's spent enough time away from Clarke to last him for the rest of his life, and while they haven't ever talked about it, he's pretty sure she feels the same.

So it's a while before he realizes everyone else is trying to make sure they spend time together too.

First, it's Miller, who decides that his boyfriend doesn't know his friends well enough, and needs to start getting to know them slowly, in small, controlled groups.

"You and Clarke are a good place to start," he says. "If you guys don't scare him off, no one else will."

"We're you're scariest friends?" he asks, amused.

"Who's your competition?"

Bellamy tries to think about it, but--honestly, he's pretty sure he and Clarke are the most famous and terrifying members of the Skaikru, and if Ethan can't deal with them, he and Miller are never going to last.

He knows the idea should bother him more; he wants Miller to be happy. But for all he's happy Ethan is alive, he can't quite get around to thinking he and Miller are still good together. Miller talked about Ethan almost like a parable, only ever late at night, only after Gina started flirting with Bellamy. He felt more like a cautionary tale than a person.

"I've got this boyfriend," he said, a man telling a ghost story. "From Farm Station. Ethan. I say I've got him because I don't know how to not have him, you know? I could still have him. And I don't--" He snorted. "Not gonna speak ill of the dead, but I couldn't be that guy, the one who decided nothing on the Ark mattered, once we were down here."

Bellamy found a small smile tugging at his lips too, unexpected. It was strange to think of those early days, when Clarke was angry about Finn and Raven, when she had space to think about things like that, instead of--

His brain refused to go there, refused to think of where she could be, what she might be worried about now. "Yeah," he said instead. "I get that."

"And it's weird, right? I might never know. And I can't just decide when I give up. How do you do that?"

"There used to be protocol," he said. "How long someone can be gone before they're declared legally dead. There was a set period of time."

"Yeah," said Miller. "Tell me how that would work out for you."

And that was that.

But Miller asked him to come out, so of course Bellamy's going to try to get to know Ethan. They have dinner together in the mess and try to have a casual conversation for about five minutes, and then Bellamy says, "Yeah, I like when it's sunny," and Clarke starts _laughing_ , really laughing, like Bellamy has never heard. She collapses against his side, forehead pressed against his shoulder, and everyone is staring. Not that he blames them. He's never heard anything so good in his life.

"You're _so fucking bad at this_ ," she manages, when she's finally recovered. "You _like it when it's sunny_. Come on, Bellamy."

"What, you don't?" he asks, grinning like his face might break with it. Miller is smiling into his drink, and Ethan looks quietly bemused.

They manage two more meals, and then Miller and Ethan break up, in a quiet, fairly friendly way.

"He thought you guys were weird," Miller explains, with a shrug, and Clarke says, "So, what, you broke up with him for being right?"

He doesn't actually notice Abby doing anything, but Clarke brings it up a few days after Miller's breakup, when he collapses into his seat at the clinic after he gets back from a mapping run. "Do you have a plan for Jasper?" he asks.

"Avoid him as much as possible," she says, and Bellamy winces.

"I was kind of hoping you'd let him hate you."

She doesn't seem upset, just curious. "Yeah?"

"Might take the pressure off Monty. And then he could help."

It's a testament to how well she's doing that she pauses and thinks it over, tapping her pen against her jaw. "You think that would work?"

" _Work_ is kind of a generous word," he admits. "I think I'm not equipped to deal with him, and neither are you. O's doing her best, but--"

Clarke grabs a chair and puts it down next to his, close enough that she's all pressed up against his side when she sits. "How's that going?"

"Shitty," he says, putting his head against hers. "It's a good thing I trust Lincoln. She'll still talk to him."

"Sorry," she says. "I know I'm not helping."

It's an understatement; Clarke had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Octavia doesn't understand how Bellamy can just forgive her, doesn't understand that there had never been anything to forgive, as far as he was concerned. She'd done what needed to be done. She'd made the decisions he would have made, when they didn't make them together. The worst thing she did to him was leaving, and he knows she wouldn't have done it if she didn't have to. But O doesn't want to talk about it, so he can't tell her she's wrong. She barely wants to talk to him at all.

"Not like I'm your mom's favorite person either," he says, out of general lack of other ideas.

She huffs a soft laugh. "I thought so too, but--"

"But what?"

"She brought the chair."

"The chair?"

"You were asleep on the floor in the corner," Clarke says, smiling faintly. Her smile's gotten easier, lately, but she still doesn't smile often. Not that she ever did. "She came in and asked what you were doing, and Jackson told her you were usually here. And the next day, there was a chair."

"Huh," he says. "It's a pretty nice chair." It has _padding_. His neck doesn't even hurt that much, when he falls asleep in it.

Clarke squeezes his hand. "Yeah. I thought so."

He's been a little weird with Raven ever since he and Gina broke up. It was mutual in the sense that Gina was the one who actually did the breaking up, but not mutual in the sense that it happened when he got back from his failed attempt to rescue Clarke, and he's pretty sure Gina would have been happy to keep dating him, except that he was a total fucking mess about another woman. And he hadn't thought--he really hadn't _known_ back then. He didn't even know when they broke up. He'd just always felt like the relationship was doomed, that at some point, she'd realize he wasn't--

Raven was the one who said it; he _wasn't_ good enough for her. And that wasn't exactly what Bellamy thought, not really. But he didn't think he could be right for her, and it hadn't been a surprise, when she realized he couldn't be either. It was coming sooner or later, and of course Clarke was the catalyst. Nothing breaks him open and exposes everything in him like Clarke does.

"It's actively pathetic that you're avoiding the bar," Raven tells him on their next mapping mission.

"She works there," he says, not pretending to not know what she's talking about. He's an adult; he can have this conversation. He's been expecting it for a while. "I'm not going to be the asshole who makes her put up with her ex at her fucking _job_."

Clarke is along for the ride for the first time, sitting in the back with Miller and Monty, eyes closed, letting the wind blow on her face. He knows she's listening, but she's not going to say anything. When he catches sight of her in the rear-view mirror, she looks content.

"She's not pissed at you," Raven says. "It's been three months. That's longer than you guys went out. Get your ego under control, you're not that much of a catch."

He snorts. "Speak for yourself. I'm a heart breaker."

"Please, I was over you before I was done being under you."

It's Clarke's turn to let out a small laugh, and Bellamy meets her eyes in the mirror. "Don't encourage her," he says.

"How are we ever gonna get that drink if you won't go to the bar?" she asks, innocent, and Bellamy rolls his eyes.

"Can't believe I forgot about your needs."

Raven catches him in private once they actually start mapping. "Seriously. You're being more of a dick avoiding her than you would be hanging out. She thinks now that Clarke is back, you don't give a shit about her."

Bellamy feels guilt churning in his stomach. "Shit. That's not--I really just wanted to be--I don't know, respectful? I never--"

"I know," says Raven. "That's why I'm telling you." She pauses, watching Monty and Clarke, heads bent together. "You don't have to avoid me either. You didn't mean to hurt her. I know you didn't know."

"Yeah, well," he says. "You know what they say. You never know what you've got 'til you lose it."

"You got her back, though."

"I know. I'm not going to rush it. I want to do it right."

Raven smiles. "Look at you, being all romantic."

"Maybe if you'd been a little more appreciative, I would have--" She elbows him, and he grins, puts his arm around her. His life is far from perfect, but it has a lot going for it. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How are you doing?"

She thinks about it for a while. "Better." And then, "You have really good taste in women."

"Thanks," he says. Then it clicks. "Oh."

Raven shrugs, slightly awkward. "I did tell you she was too good for you."

"Never said she wasn't. How's that going?"

"Slow." She smiles a little. "Right."

"Good."

He and Clarke go to the bar that night, and Gina is there, looking bright and pretty, appealing in the same way she always has been. It feels odd, to think of _uncomplicated_ as a bad thing, because it's not, and _she's_ not. She's got as much to her as anyone. But he didn't know how to talk to her, sometimes. He needed more tangles.

"Have you actually met Clarke?" he asks, giving her a smile.

"Back on the Ark," she says. "We were in the same art class."

"Nice to see you again," Clarke says, with a shy smile. "I'm glad you made it down." Her expression strengthens a little. "I would have come in sooner, but Bellamy is a dumbass."

"Thanks," he says.

"Making fun of you is the fastest way to bond with new people," she says, unrepentant, and Gina laughs. 

It becomes a regular thing after that, every few days. Someone will ask them to come hang out, Monty trying to cheer up Jasper or Miller, Raven wanting Clarke's backup when she tentatively flirts with Gina, even Abby, sometimes, trying to figure out how to be with her daughter again.

No one ever asks just one of them, but why would they? They're all Clarke's friends too.

The first time he really starts thinking about it, about how everyone tries to make sure they can stay together, is when Octavia _doesn't_.

"I just want to talk to my brother for once," she says, glaring at Clarke. She jerks her head toward the clinic, and he nods, curt, before turning his attention back to his sister.

"You can talk to me any time you want."

"Every time I see you, you're with Clarke."

"So? You can still talk when Clarke's around."

He can see her struggling, but apparently it's time to have this fight. He's just as glad; it's been like a physical weight, being at odds with his sister. They need to get this out. "She let that bomb kill people. _Our_ people."

"Yeah, she did."

"And she left you. She left you when you were--"

"She left because _she_ couldn't be here," he says. "Don't tell me you think it would have done me much good to have her falling apart on me."

"Because it did you so much good for her to leave."

He sighs, runs his hand through his hair. "There wasn't anything good for her to do. She did what she had to. I'm never going to hold that against her. I trust her to make the right decisions, even if they're not the ones I'd make."

"I just don't get how you can love her," Octavia says, soft. "After she hurt you so much. After everything."

It feels like a bigger question, and he doesn't know what to say. He's never had trouble loving people, even people who hurt him, people who fuck up his whole life. He has trouble admitting it out loud, has trouble dealing with it, but he loves people so easily it's like _breathing_. He loves Miller and Raven and Monty, Monroe and Harper, Lincoln; he loves Gina and Jasper and even _Murphy_ \--who better fucking be alive--in prickly, complicated ways, loves them even though he feels stupid for it, feels almost disrespectful for it, because they probably don't want his love.

He loves Octavia. He loves Clarke. He can't not love them. He wouldn't know how.

"Have you seen her breasts?" he asks, and Octavia's laugh sounds more like a sob.

" _Bell_."

He wraps his arm around her for the first time in months. She fits in against his side like she never left.

"Come on, O. What else was I gonna do? Stop?"

She wraps her arms around him. "I hate your stupid jacket."

"I know."

"I'm still mad at her."

"I know."

"Have you told her?"

"Nah," he says. "She knows too."

And then he's in a meeting with Kane, Abby, and Pike about a diplomatic mission, and Kane says, "I don't think Bellamy should go." He bristles, but Kane continues before he can say anything. "Clarke hasn't given us all the details of her falling out with the Commander, but they aren't on good terms. It would be unwise to send her."

"We're talking about sending Bellamy, not Clarke," says Pike. He's finally come around on peace, at least until he comes up with a way to murder a whole lot of people all at once. Bellamy isn't planning to give him any tips.

"It's the same thing," says Kane, like this is public knowledge, and it makes Bellamy startle. "We won't be sending Bellamy on any long-term missions without her."

"Sir?" he asks, surprised.

"Sorry, did you want to leave for a week on your own?" he asks, surprisingly mild. 

Bellamy feels his chest ache at the thought of being away from her for a _week_. He doesn't know how he'd ever manage to sleep. But he's got a job to do, and the idea that he's getting special treatment, that--

"We have other people who can go," Abby says. "Your sister. And Lincoln, now that the kill order is lifted. The two of them, David Miller, another one of the guards. That's a good team."

"O isn't exactly known for her diplomacy skills," Bellamy snaps.

"Neither are you."

His jaw works. He doesn't want to go. He'd rather stay here. O would love it, be happy to be out of camp for a week, to get some responsibility and something real to do. Lincoln would be happy to get to see Indra. It's a good call, but it bristles.

"I don't need any favors," he tells Kane, after Abby and Pike have left.

"You're not getting any. Your sister will do well, and we need to start diversifying our--"

"You already said it was about Clarke."

Kane lets out a breath, looks at Bellamy hard. "Did it ever occur to you that the two of you are valuable to us? Diplomatically, if it makes you feel better than hearing that we care about you. It's not a secret that you've had a rough time, both of you. And it's obvious you're doing _better_. Don't act like that's nothing, Bellamy. The two of you are healing. It doesn't do us any good to screw that up, when you'll do us more good whole than hurt."

It's the kind of statement that makes him pause and reconsider a lot of things. He knows how important Clarke is, and even how important he is, on his good days. But it's disconcerting to think that they're being--prioritized. That his shifts on guard duty haven't been overlapping with hers at the clinic as much, that he can be with her almost as much as he wants to, because they never have duties that conflict. He thought it was just good luck.

"I don't need to be with Clarke all the time," he says.

"Probably not," Kane grants. "But it seems pointless to separate you, when you work so much better together."

Clarke's on shift in the clinic, which he thought was the only reason she wasn't in the meeting, but maybe they wanted him in private for that. He thinks about not stopping in, just to prove a point, but he wants to yell about it, and she's the most receptive audience. And he said he'd be there when he finished; she'd worry.

When he arrives, she's with a patient, Georgia Markwell, eight. She broke her arm a few weeks back, and Bellamy's been around for most of her follow-up appointments. She looks delighted when she spots him, and he grins at her.

"Bellamy! Clarke said you were busy."

"I was," he says. "But if she'd told me you were coming in, I would have made sure I wasn't."

Clarke rolls her eyes, fond and amused, and Georgia chats at Bellamy about her lessons and her foster family, relaxing him by degrees. He can do good if he never leaves Arkadia again. He will do good.

"What did Kane want?" Clarke asks, once they're alone.

"Diplomatic mission," he says, and she goes rigid, instantly and completely. 

"When do you leave?"

"I'm not." He wets his lips. "Apparently there's an official policy that I shouldn't go anywhere you can't, and we're still waiting on having you meet up with grounders."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I can't tell if you're upset," she says, careful.

"I don't like getting special treatment. Plenty of people have to leave--" He doesn't know how to finish, because he doesn't know what to call Clarke. People leave their families. Their loved ones. He doesn't have a word for what he'd be leaving. "It feels like I'm getting away with something. It's not fair."

"What would you do if they told you to leave?"

If anyone else asked, he'd lie. "I don't mind not--I don't need to be with you twenty-four hours a day. I'm fine. But--fuck, if I didn't know where you _were_ , Clarke. If I didn't know exactly how long it would take me to get to you, I don't--" He huffs. "I wouldn't make it a day."

"I know," she says. She takes his hand and squeezes, just once. "So if you ever have to go, I'll come with you."

He helps her clean up once she's done for the day, and they go to the bar together. He thinks, if they're lucky and their treaties hold, there will be a day sometime in the future when he won't _need_ to wake up with her, when he won't have to know exactly where she is every moment, because if he doesn't know, she could be _anywhere_. If they're lucky, this will fade. Not how he feels about her, but the memory of losing her, the memory of being apart from her. The raw ache of separation will scar over.

Until then, he can stay with her. He's never been good at accepting gifts, but this is one he can take, and be grateful for.

The bar is busy, full of Bellamy's favorite people. Octavia is with Raven at the bar, chatting with Gina, all three of them smiling. Lincoln and Miller are playing some game Monty designed, which Bellamy still hasn't gotten a chance to try yet. Monty is tucked against Miller's side, like he has been for the last few weeks. Bellamy's not sure if they're official yet, but he's the last person who should throw stones about the progression of relationships. As long as they know what's happening, he doesn't care. Jasper is with Harper and Monroe, and he meets Bellamy's eye when he sees him, even nods.

And Clarke is by his side. Clarke doesn't want to leave him any more than he wants to leave her. She might want it _less_.

They get drinks and sit apart from everyone else, all pressed up together. It feels _nice_. It feels like what he wants.

It feels like time.

He leans in close, even though no one is near enough to hear them. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I love you."

"I know."

He nudges his nose against her temple. "Not like I love Octavia. Not like I love anyone."

"Good." She turns her head to smile at him. "I _know_ , Bellamy. I love you too."

"Okay," he says, and kisses her, soft and slow, deliberate but not deep. He doesn't need to make out with Clarke Griffin in the middle of a crowded bar, not when they have a room with a bed they can go back to whenever they want. He was just done not knowing what it was like to kiss her.

Her eyes are still closed when he pulls back, and she's smiling, soft and perfect. Someday, he'll figure out how to leave her for more than a few hours, but he's never going to be able to let her go again. It would be terrifying, if he didn't know she felt the same.

Miller wolf-whistles, and Bellamy startles. It's not like _everyone_ is looking at them, but enough people are that it's sort of a surprise. He didn't think anyone was paying them any attention.

"We're witnessing history," Monty tells Miller, in a stage whisper, and Clarke laughs.

"It's nothing new," she says, leaning into Bellamy's side. "Just us."

"Just us," Bellamy agrees. "Fuck off, Miller."

"I didn't even say anything," Miller protests, and just like that, they're off, bickering, laughing, Clarke learning Monty's game, Bellamy getting roped into cards with Octavia, Raven, and Gina. They're not together, but he knows where she is, is aware of every time she moves, knows how long it would take him to get to her (about four seconds), and where she's going to be tonight (in his bed) and tomorrow (training, mapping mission, and at the wall for his guard shift). 

He knows she's not going to go anywhere without him, and that still feels new and huge, is almost too much to think about sometimes. It feels selfish in a way he's not used to being, to take this, but Kane was right. They're better together. More useful together. More useful _healed_.

It's not going to be like this forever. But he'll take it today, and tomorrow, and the next day.

He'll take as long as he can get.


End file.
